- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Usually from early evening all through the night into the morning hours.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- I'm cool with just about anything...except the genres listed in the DON'T LIKE section.
"If you ask nicely, Blu might agree to give you lessons," Bonnie revealed, trying to get rid of a minuscule stain on the body of his guitar. "You don't want lessons from me even though I'm better. I'm not that patient with amateurs." "You're just not patient in general," Chica quipped, her pink optics fixed with apparent fascination on the pages of Freddy's book. "It's why you're such an awful cook." The purple rabbit sniffed, reaching up to scratch at one of his ears. "Yeah, whatever. Cooking's boring, anyway."
Freddy chuckled, the sound low, deep, and surprisingly pleasant. "I will not stop him if he truly desires to see what is hidden within the box. If we prevent him from satiating that curiosity, it will only grow...until it becomes an unbearable cancerous blight in his mind. But he must be made aware that there may be consequences for his curiosity. What is the saying, again?" The bear quietly turned a page. "Curiosity killed the cat?" "Well, let's try not to kill anyone, okay?" Chica patted him on the shoulder. "Besides, I don't think Mari is the killing type. Not anymore, at least. He got what he wanted." "Yes, and so did we," Freddy murmured rather cryptically, keeping his voice low.
"Aye." Foxy was more than happy to melt into the hug, his expression calm, but still conflicted. "We're both in sorry shape, lass. Jus' the most broken-down crew o' pirates to ev'r sail th' seven seas. But the Cap'n...he be in better shape. So...if tha' new lass makes a mistake, it won' affect me as much. So I'm gonna go first." He scratched the side of his neck with the sharp end of his hook. "The privateers in management...they bin thinkin' bout bringin' Ol' Foxy back." He motioned to the newly-constructed Pirate Cove with his hand. "Otherwise, they wouldn't 'a built this here Cove. They woulda just thrown me in the brig."
The deceptively plain box in the corner remained motionless. Oh, there was no doubt in the world that its silent occupant knew that he had company...but it seemed like he simply wasn't willing to show his face. Not yet, at least. After a few moments, the constant thumping on the floor appeared to have finally gotten to the hidden puppet. The rusted handle of the box moved forward a bit, creaking all the while, and then quickly moved back.
If the coyote really wanted to satisfy his curiosity, all he had to do was wind the box.
Freddy chuckled, the sound low, deep, and surprisingly pleasant. "I will not stop him if he truly desires to see what is hidden within the box. If we prevent him from satiating that curiosity, it will only grow...until it becomes an unbearable cancerous blight in his mind. But he must be made aware that there may be consequences for his curiosity. What is the saying, again?" The bear quietly turned a page. "Curiosity killed the cat?" "Well, let's try not to kill anyone, okay?" Chica patted him on the shoulder. "Besides, I don't think Mari is the killing type. Not anymore, at least. He got what he wanted." "Yes, and so did we," Freddy murmured rather cryptically, keeping his voice low.
"Aye." Foxy was more than happy to melt into the hug, his expression calm, but still conflicted. "We're both in sorry shape, lass. Jus' the most broken-down crew o' pirates to ev'r sail th' seven seas. But the Cap'n...he be in better shape. So...if tha' new lass makes a mistake, it won' affect me as much. So I'm gonna go first." He scratched the side of his neck with the sharp end of his hook. "The privateers in management...they bin thinkin' bout bringin' Ol' Foxy back." He motioned to the newly-constructed Pirate Cove with his hand. "Otherwise, they wouldn't 'a built this here Cove. They woulda just thrown me in the brig."
The deceptively plain box in the corner remained motionless. Oh, there was no doubt in the world that its silent occupant knew that he had company...but it seemed like he simply wasn't willing to show his face. Not yet, at least. After a few moments, the constant thumping on the floor appeared to have finally gotten to the hidden puppet. The rusted handle of the box moved forward a bit, creaking all the while, and then quickly moved back.
If the coyote really wanted to satisfy his curiosity, all he had to do was wind the box.